Different
by tangerineskies
Summary: Principal Walker introduces a new class to East High, bringing people with different backrounds to discuss their problems and make new friendships blossom. As the students continue, they realize that they can break away from their pretenses. OOC
1. Prologue

It was the first day back at school. Everyone had gotten their new schedules, exchanging the usual "hey" and "what's ups?" with their friends. They all had some sort of story that went on with them for the past summer. Someone slept with this person, or someone got arrested. Someone went to sleepaway camp and someone went to Hawaii.

The principal continued to watch the students with a strong interest in character. In his mind, he eyed out a few students that he was to put into a special class. These students were to get schedule changes and start up the new class immediately.

He called it "Recapture the Vision". In this class, the students would be able to work out the kinks in their lives and befriend new people. They would learn to break out of their shells.

The principal had already noted names:

Gabriella Montez, a shy yet brilliant student. She didn't have many friends for she was completely immersed in her studies. She lacked the proper skills to put herself out there, which labeled her as an outcast. This didn't seem to bother her, but everyone knew it would hurt her in the future.

Sharpay Evans was next on his list. She was the one who was a total drama major. Even though she was a popular and social person, she did not have the stamina to live up with her past. She lacked the proper skills to move on from the tragic death of her father.

As the principal continued to mark people's names down into his head, he noticed the basketball team walk down the hallway. Chad Danforth, a not-so-clever player was the star of the team. He was a total player with the girls at his school and toyed with hearts and emotions. He lacked love and compassion from his mother and father, who constantly put him down as a young child before he was sent to live with his aunt.

"Principal Walker, may I have a word with you for a moment, please?" Taylor McKessie bounced up to him. Her ebony curls twittered and tattered around. Her fake smile and her fake happiness had bothered him from day one. She never would have had to fake her happiness had her father not beat her up while growing up.

"Yes, Taylor, what may I help you with?"

"I heard about this new class that you're starting up, and I just want to tell you that I think it's a spectacular idea, really and truly. It's immaculate." Her tone was a little shaky, but he knew that she was having her own problems at home.

"Why thank you, Taylor, that was very kind of you to say," he said before turning his eyes towards the school's culinary genius.

Zeke Baylor. He practically lived in the school's culinary kitchen for the students. He made the most delicious pastries you could possibly imagine, but he always tried to make himself seem as perfect as his older brother, Sean. His parents constantly asked him why he couldn't be more like his brother.

"Uh, Principal Walker, the bell has rung," Taylor said, breaking his concentration. "I'll see you later and we can discuss what the student committee is going to do about the standardized testing."

The principal merely nodded. As Taylor walked away and into her homeroom, the principal walked the empty hallways. A clicking sound was heard a few feet away and standing next to the lockers was none other that Troy Bolton.

Troy Bolton had been a mystery to everyone. He was legendary bad-boy Bolton. He was never questioned nor talked to. The real outsider, to whom everyone knows but stays away from, he is the guy you go to if you want some drugs or something. He always has them on him, but if you didn't want to be killed in your sleep, you didn't turn him in. He never spoke a word and practically skipped every class he was in.

"Bolton, class, now," the principal said firmly. Troy gave him the finger and walked into his class, but not before he turned around and told him in his deep, husky voice, "Go to hell."

The principal scoffed and walked back to his office, looking down at the records of the six names of the people he had pointed out. He wrote in their names and ID numbers and sent the paper off to the scheduling department.

_Starting tomorrow._


	2. First Days

Troy Bolton walked into the red doors of East High late on the first day of school. It wasn't very shocking since he was always late to pretty much any commitment he had ever made, including continuing his education.

Though why was Troy, the bad boy, always late? Some said that it had been because he didn't care. Others thought it was all the pot he smoked. Whatever it was, it was always said that he was legendary bad boy, and forever it would stay.

Troy received his schedule from the front office, shutting the door behind him. He had heard Lisa, the front receptionist, say that no schedule changes would be made this year. It was true that Troy was one to get out of the classes he didn't like.

He overlooked his schedule, taking in all the classes he was to take. _Homeroom with Darbus? Again? Oh the perks of being Troy Bolton. _He sighed, and gripped his bookbag with as much force as he could. He strutted down the hallway grudgingly towards the hell-hole that was Mrs. Katherine Darbus's classroom. He twisted the doorknob with force and pulled it open fast. So fast, that he had heard a few gasps and yelps from the students inside.

"Well, so nice of you to join us, Mr. Bolton," Darbus said sweetly. Suddenly, her whole tone had changed drastically. "Find and _empty_ seat and sit down."

He laughed a bit to himself. The year before when he had Darbus for homeroom, he yelled at some kid to get out of the chair that he wanted to sit in. Of course, he'd gotten detention (which of course, he skipped), but never did that kid, or any other kid, sit in his seat.

Troy scouted out the room, looking at all the terrified faces. Troy barged down the rows of the desks and sat down next to a girl. She looked a little bit different than the average girl at East High. Dark hair, tan skin, chocolate brown eyes. However, there were some things that would never change, such as the long and lean legs and the small waistline.

_There has got to be something wrong with her. _Troy looked down at her bag, seeing all the books she carried in there. Trigonometry, Russian Language book, as well as a few select novels like Dickens, Twain, and an anthology of poetry.

_High-class,_ he noted.

The bell rang throughout everyone's ears. Troy got up and flew out the door. _Thank god, _he thought to himself. He looked down at his schedule. _Recapture the Vision? What the hell?!_

He steadied himself outside of the door for this bogus class. He saw people he knew in the classroom, though why the hell they'd all be brought down in the same classroom, he had no idea.

First, there was the jock, Chad Danforth. He was bushy haired and just about as amazing at basketball as one could get. Alongside him was Zeke Baylor, who was a chef. Taylor Mckessie, the smarty faced bitch, Sharpay Evans, the high-class society kid and some other people he didn't know, including the tan girl from homeroom.

Troy scoffed as his presence was made to the rest of the class. Some of them gulped in terror as they looked him in the face.

"WHAT?!" he bellowed. He hadn't really done that in a long time and it felt good, like catharsis.

"MR. BOLTON, SIT DOWN!" Principal Walker came through the door. "Now, welcome to Recapture the Vision. This is a class primarily to open up your shells. I hand-picked you all to be in this class and by the end of the year, I hope that some of you if not all of you will be free from the burdens of your lives."

Everyone continued to look at him, waiting for his next instruction.

"I will divide all of you into pairs and I want you to do profiles on each other. State their name, what they like, what they don't like and anything else you can think of. I'll keep it simple so you can be with people you are probably most comfortable with. Mr. Cross and Mr. Bolton, Mr. Baylor and Mr. Danforth, Ms. Evans and Ms. Nielson and Ms. Mckessie and Ms. Montez."

Troy had seen the tan girl go off with the human brain, so he figured her last name was Montez. He eyed her over once again, smirking to himself.

"Hello, my prey."

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Gabriella had been sitting with Taylor for the longest time. As soon as one answer flew out of her mouth, Taylor was ready with another question.

"Tay, can we just go turn it in now?" Gabriella was whining in a low voice. She never really spoke out much, but Taylor was her friend, and she needed to tell her friend that she had had enough.

Taylor sighed. "Alright then, Gabi, but if we get a bad grade, it's your fault," she said, her tone a little bit disapproving and condescending. It sounded normal for her though, so Gabriella didn't make much of it.

"Five minutes, then you may leave," Principal Walker said to the eight students.

Gabriella packed up her books and pencils, waiting for the bell to ring. She looked around the room at everyone and noticed that there were only seven people in the room. She tried to pinpoint who it had been, though the answer was already clear.

When the bell rang, Gabriella got out of her seat and walked out the door with Taylor and Kelsi.

"See you around later, Gabs."

"K, bye!" She walked down the hallway which was slowly dwindling with students. The rush of flustered kids getting to the right classes were long gone by then.

Suddenly, two strong hands pulled her into a janitors' closet.

"Hello there, Ms. Montez," a husky voice had spoken to her. She was completely sure who it was.

Gabriella, being the scared and shy girl she was, didn't know what to say. "Uh, y-yeah-h that's-s me." She could feel his smirk on his face as his face leaned into hers and kissed the corner of her mouth softly.

Gabriella could only figure out what was to happen next, but she certainly didn't want to find out. "I g-gotta go," she said and flew out of the room.

The only thing she didn't know: she was already eating out of the palm of his hand.


	3. Meeting

The first day of school had ended for the eight teens. Some took the bus, others had their own cars. No matter, there was always a way to get home to their intricate lives. Some said that it was how you act in your own home defines who you are. It doesn't necessarily count for everybody though.

Gabriella walked into her front door, announcing to anyone who could be home that she was home. There were so many people living under that roof that it surely seemed impossible to live in.

"Gabi, please come help me in the kitchen," called Katherina, her eldest sister. Katie was only 24, but already had a nine year-old son and a four year-old daughter, Kevin and Carmen. She had always told Gabriella that she should never have sex at such a young age because she never wanted her to be in the same position she had been put through. 'Guys will not always be there for you if you get pregnant and you're not married. I got lucky with Rafael, but it's not always like that. I threw my future of going to college away and if I could go back in time and change it, I would, even if it means not having Kevin and Carmen. I love them dearly, but it could have all been different.'

Gabriella walked into the kitchen and started helping Katie cut the vegetables for dinner. Suddenly, the events that took place earlier in the janitors' closet with Troy came to mind. How rough yet gentle he was with her. How she wished she could tell her sister without being completely embarrassed.

Gabriella helped Katie for another 30 minutes or so and then walked upstairs to her room, took off her glasses and just spread herself out on her bed, taking in her first day of school.

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Troy's bus driver finally dropped him off in front of his house, since he was the only person on the last stop. He walked through the door and saw his mother standing in the kitchen, crying hysterically.

It wasn't new for her, or for anyone in the family. Troy had never really intended to make his life the way that it was. However, it was his fault that everything had happened to them.

Troy put his book bag in his room and stormed into his parents' bedroom. He saw his father, lying drunk, on the bed.

"Get up, you lazy asshole, and make my mother happy. I'm taking a walk," he said, his voice cold, cruel and harsh. He was never pleasant with his father anymore. He used to be a warm, loving figure to him, but now he couldn't even recognize him anymore. He beat his wife and his son, until Troy had gotten big enough to start fighting back. Never did he touch him or his mother again.

Troy walked out and slammed the door behind him, causing a whine from his mother. He did care about her, but he was always there for her and he needed time for himself. Troy had never wanted to be in the house during her episodes and when he was, he would crank his music way loud and tried to drown it out.

He found himself walking to the park. The air was chilly and the wind was mild, but it sent shivers down his spine. He noticed that no one was outside. _A perfect opportunity to get a smoke._

Troy pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, lit the end and took a puff. He sat there, just wishing that his life could have a little more normalcy in it. He wished that he had some sane reasoning for what he did. He knew his answer though. He had none.

His thoughts moved on to other things, like the crazy class he was taking. What shell could he possibly have? Why was he one that was selected? What about the Montez girl? Why was she selected? All these thoughts that rushed into his head gave him a migraine. He did not need to be thinking about her. There was no point to it.

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Gabriella had just finished dinner when she decided she would take a walk outside. She knew that she lived just by the local park. She loved going there as a kid, and before her parents had died when she was 11, they would take her there all the time. Now she was seventeen. Perhaps she was a little too old to be playing on swingsets and seesaws, but she couldn't help herself.

She didn't care about her glasses, so she decided she wouldn't bring them. She grabbed her coat, kissed Katie on the cheek and told her that she would be back. She walked out the door and locked it behind her, setting off into the direction of the park.

As soon as she got there, she immediately went to the swings. She didn't smile, and she didn't laugh like she used to when she was on the swings, but it was still fun and brought her fond memories of her childhood. How she had missed her parents so.

She knew other people must have been there, but when she heard someone mutter, "I thought I was alone."

Her head whipped around to where a man was sitting, smoking his cigarette. He looked oddly familiar, so she went to go sit with him. As she got closer, she noticed it was Troy, and something in her made her want to back up and run away. Another part of her wanted to go to him and ask him why he was at the park so late at night.

"Hey, Montez," he said, nonchalantly.

Gabriella was thoroughly shocked. She didn't even think that he knew that she was there, but she couldn't walk away now, could she?

"Hi," she said quietly, her voice shy and full of innocence.

She walked over closer to him and sat down next to him. She noticed he continued to smoke his cigarette. She didn't like smoke that much, and to be next to him was making her feel sick to her stomach.

"You don't like the smoke? I can put it out if you'd like." It was like he was reading her mind.

"Yes, please," she said. She wasn't sure what to tell him or what to say to him. She barely knew him and already he had tried to get in her jeans. She knew they had to start somewhere.

"Maybe we should…I don't know…re-introduce ourselves? I mean, we don't even know each other and I'm just sitting here next to you and I feel like I'm sitting next to a total stranger and it's…I'm rambling, aren't I?"

He laughed a little bit. It was musical, like a lullaby that could softly sing her to sleep. "Fine, I'm Troy," he said, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray next to the bench.

"Gabriella," she responded. "So, Troy, why are you out here tonight?"

Troy sighed. Obviously, she had gone into a topic that he just didn't want to discuss.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that might have been a little bit too personal," she said, feeling embarrassed.

They stayed silent for a while longer. It wasn't painful silence and it wasn't awkward, but it was nice. For once in a long time, Gabriella didn't feel alone. She never thought that she would ever get over the feeling of being lonely, but she had. It felt good.

Troy didn't look at her at all, which was fine for Gabriella. He seemed to be lost in thought and of course, she wouldn't disturb him like other people she knew would.

"Gabriella, you look gorgeous without your glasses. Maybe you should think about getting contacts." And with that, he got up and left, leaving a dumbfounded Gabriella behind.


	4. Release

Tuesday, also known as a brand-new day. The students of East High came a tad bit slower to the school. Over vacation, they couldn't wait to get back, but now that they were back, they all wanted out. People crowded by lockers, chatting it up about the whore of the school, or the big fights going on, or the crap loads of homework they got, but Principal Walker was just glad to have the school back to normal.

He set out for his one and only class that he taught.

Inside the classroom, eight students sat waiting patiently and impatiently.

"Good morning, class," he began. "Today, I'm going to pair you up a little bit differently. I want you all to start branching out to each other, so this is how it's going to go down. Mckessie and Baylor, Cross and Evans, Danforth and Nielson, Montez and Bolton. Now go, have a one-on-one conversation with each other. At the end of class, I want you to tell me a little something about the person you talked to."

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Gabriella slowly, but surely, moved her seat over to Troy's. She was a bit nervous to be partnered up with him, mostly because of the events that happened the day before, rather than his reputation. She finally got the courage to start.

"So," she began, however, Troy cut her off.

"I see you're still wearing your glasses," he said darkly. He wasn't showing his face much but she could feel the shivers going up and down her spine. Gabriella couldn't figure out his tone of voice. It was dark, but seemed to be drenched with humor.

"It was late, I couldn't go get contacts," she answered, her head dripping down slowly.

He made a choking sound, a small laugh in a sort of way. "You're telling me you've never had contacts before? Don't the glasses ever bother you?"

She shrugged her shoulders a bit. "I guess they do, but my family doesn't have enough money to buy contacts. I've been trying to save up my money, but I always have to lend it to my sister so she can buy food and clothing for us all."

"What about your parents?"

Gabriella sat motionless, though the tears emitting from her eyes were not invisible. She tried to blink them away, but it was useless. She felt Troy get up from his chair and walk over to Principal Walker's desk. She heard him mumble softly to him and heard a grunt or two before he walked back. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door, and after making sure that the door was closed, he looked back at her.

Her eyes were completely red and she couldn't help herself from crying in front of him. She felt him reach his arm out to her, but she swatted it away and fell to the floor, hiding her face within her arms.

Suddenly, his voice, which before had been humorously dark, was now soothing and melodic. "Gabriella."

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He tried to grasp something to say, but couldn't think of anything. He wanted to hold her, but knew it wouldn't be right. He wanted to say he knew how she felt, but didn't even know what was going on.

Finally, she stopped sobbing her eyes out. She looked up at him and she couldn't look any more torn apart.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to…it…I…oh goodness," she said, sighing loudly.

"Gabriella, I'm sorry if what I said made you upset. I didn't mean to hurt you at all."

She looked up at him and gave him a half-smile. "It's okay, Troy. I…I wanna tell you why I did that," she said softly. He nodded, asking for her to continue.

She sighed. "When I was eleven, my parents had decided that they would go out to their best friend's wedding shower, which was being held on one of the coldest days of the year. I knew I couldn't stop them, but I tried my hardest. I wanted them to stay with me because I felt like something bad was going to happen. It didn't help at all, and they left.

"A few hours later, my sisters and I got a phone call that their car had slid on some ice and flew right off the bridge, killing them, as well as their car instantly. I…" she started trailing off. "I knew that if they hadn't gone out, had they stayed with me, they would have been fine, I wouldn't have to feel like I didn't try my best. Now I can't help but blame myself for their death. My sisters, Katie and Estrella tell me that I didn't do anything, but I just can't help it."

Troy stared at her while she spoke. He couldn't help but feel sympathy for her, and maybe even a little empathetic since his parents hadn't really been there. He tried wrapping his arm around her, but she shook it off.

Her voice was harsh, yet angelic. "I don't need your sympathy, Troy," she said, collapsing into tears again. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, ignoring the way she hit his chest and tried pushing him away. In the end, she just sat there, crying into his shirt.

He gently stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. His shirt was soaked through to his chest, but he didn't care. He continued to make shushing sounds in her ears, whispering that it would be okay soon and that she just needed to cry herself out.

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After a few minutes, she finally stopped crying. She looked down at herself, placed on Troy's lap, crying into Troy's damp shirt. Her eyes floated back up to his.

"I'm sorry, Troy," she spoke softly.

He smiled slightly. "It's no big deal. Did the crying help?"

She smiled, a full smile, one that made her life brighten up. "Yes, it did. But now, I wanna hear about you."

"What about me?"

"What are your parents like?"

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Troy looked at Gabriella, taking in her eager appearance. Was he sure he wanted to let her in? He was Troy Bolton, the kid you knew but knew nothing about. He was mysterious yet daring. No one knew the real him.

And yet, she had just poured out into him. She trusted him so much to tell him something deep about her own family history. Was he even up to that pressure? She probably hadn't told that to anyone else before in her life. Maybe it was like he owed her.

Owed her what? What did he have to give her? His life story?

Finally, his consciousness took over and he began to pour out into her.

"Well, my father became an alcoholic when I was younger. He used to come home every night, totally wasted, hitting my mom and myself. Sometimes, I would wonder what happened to the man I used to admire. I knew I always wanted to be just like him. After he hit my mom for the first time, I never wanted to be like him ever again.

"He started hitting me, too. That is, until I got older. When I was about 13, I had enough muscle to start fighting back, and I knew that if I did so, I could spare my mother and myself from any other harmful things that he threw our way.

"That didn't stop him though. He would continuously come home drunk, and my mother would be in tears about her husband. She knew she just couldn't leave him after all the shit he put us through. I was really pissed off about that, and I remember even running away from home.

"When I came to East High, I immediately sought out for the people who were like me. Outcasts. I knew that that was where I belonged. I was introduced to smoking, and drugs. The drugs you wouldn't even begin to imagine. Coke, pot, meth, you name it. I didn't take all of them, especially not meth, but I was in the loop with the people that did, and soon after all my friends were gone, I became the school's dealer.

"Gabriella," he said her name so softly, it almost sounded like he was crying. "Just recently, I've wanted to stop selling and doing."

She gave him a confused look. "Why do you want to stop?"

He looked her dead in the eye. "If I don't quit, there's no way in hell I'll have a chance with you."

And with that, he stood up, walked inside, grabbed his bag and walked out, not even hearing a word come out of her mouth.


End file.
